


More than a Machine

by fivu



Category: GTAV RP, Twitch RP
Genre: Gun Violence, Revenge, Suffering, Twitch Streamers - Freeform, we out here writing Bitches fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-03-22 02:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18977794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fivu/pseuds/fivu
Summary: Jerry The Breaker—Expert marksman, fiercely loyal, clinically insane.When he's forced to decide whether he values the mission—including money and infamy—or the seeking of sweet, sweet revenge, which does he choose? What's more important to the 'cop-killer'?Not even he knows the answer to that.





	1. Calculations

**Author's Note:**

> hey baby welcome to my first twitch rp fic. i hope you are prepared. k thx luv u
> 
> (also visit my twitter for Bitches art if u are so inclined.... ;^) @0fivu0)

The robbery wasn’t anything special—stealing the money from a simple convenient store near the edge of the city. Even if the job seemed so small, the Bitches, of course, expected resistance.

 

_“Ninety seconds on the clock!”_

 

Dan was inside the store, but Jerry and Ken could still hear him from up on the roof. Jerry had his pistol drawn, checking his grip for the fifth time before his ears picked up a familiar whine.

 

“Sirens,” He simply says, “They’re quick today.”

 

“Sounds like more than one,” Ken adds, slowly peeking his head over the barrier on the roof and scanning the road below, “Get ready for a good one, boys.”

 

“I’m always ready!” Dan shouts, sounding a bit strained from his work on the vault inside. Jerry could hear the metallic creaks of the crowbar slowly prying its way into the vault’s door.

 

He turned his head, confirming the location of the getaway vehicle with their driver patiently waiting for them to finish. Through the window, Jerry spotted Fingle reclining in his chair, lazily scrolling through what was probably Twitter. It almost brought a smile to his face. Almost.

 

His attention was turned to the sound of an engine approaching and stopping in front of the store. Ken rushes to the edge, definitely expecting cops, but Jerry watches as a smile spreads across his cheeks.

 

“Hey Robot!” Ken calls, waving a hand.

 

“Hello Ken!” Robot replies, always polite. He spots Jerry when the man walks to the edge next to Ken and waves to him. Jerry waves back. “Are you guys in the middle of a robbery?”

 

“Yeah, baby!” Dan chimes in, “Probably wanna get outta here before cops come!”

 

“I’ll stay out of the way! Good luck!”

 

“Thank you Robot! We—“ Dan is cut off as the tires from two cop cars come squeaking around the corner. Ken gets to his feet, Jerry towering behind him, gun in hand. Robot, deciding that it’s best not to move, stays just outside of the store, standing in a parking spot with his hands in the air.

 

_“To anyone in the building,”_ The dull voice of a pissed-off male cop sounds from a megaphone. _“Step out of the store with your hands in the air.”_

 

“Hello, gentlemen,” Ken says, pulling the cops’ attention to him, “If you leave your vehicle, I will pull my gun on you.”

 

_“Three targets confirmed,”_ One of the cops mumble into his radio, but Jerry and Ken pick it up. _“One escape vehicle found. More possibly in and around the building.”_

 

“Ay! You leave Robot out of this—he’s not with us! Well, not right _now…”_

 

_“We will use force if you continue to resist. Step out of the building with your hands up.”_

 

“I refuse!” Ken hisses, wrinkling his nose, “And so do my boys.” Jerry silently agrees with a small nod of his head. He doesn’t fear the cops, and he trusts Fingle to get them out safe.

 

“Oh _man!”_ Dan’s voice slices the air, “These Pringles are _delicious!”_

 

Suddenly, there’s movement. Jerry and Ken begin to book it back to the rear of the building where they need to jump to Fingle’s monster truck as Dan rushes out the front door. Jerry sprints full-tilt towards the edge and leaps, barely making the jump to the other side. It knocks the wind out of him, but he makes it to the car door. His hand grabs at the handle and he pulls, but before he can hoist himself in, he hears shouts and then gunshots.

 

His head whips around, eyes feverishly scanning the area where Dan is supposed to appear, but the bearded man hasn’t made it to the car yet. Ken is panting behind Jerry, having just made the jump.

 

“Where’s Dan?” Ken huffs. Jerry doesn’t respond. “Oh _shit.”_

 

Jerry barely hears Fingle shout his name before he begins to sprint back towards the front of the store, vaulting over the fence and landing heavily. It doesn’t stop him—his world gets quiet as his focus shifts from _escape_ to **_break._ **

 

He can’t really tell how many times he pulled the trigger, but his anger flares when he realizes he misses all of the shots. The mag goes dry and he curses. Tossing the gun aside, he throws punches at the nearest cop, his heavy gauntlets doing much of the work for him. A splash of blood from the forehead of one of the cops, and then they topple to the ground. All Jerry can hear is the thudding of his heartbeat and his own breaths.

 

After a moment, Dan’s voice cuts through his trance and sends him spiraling back to reality. He’s yelling something at him. _What’s he saying?_

 

_“—elp, Jerry!”_

 

Jerry turns and peers behind him—cold, unwavering, calm. But that’s shattered when he sees who _actually_ got shot.

 

Dan is crouched over Robot, having pulled him into his arms. Jerry’s eyes widen as he notices that Robot appears _panicked—_ hands clutching at bullet-wounds that have ripped through clothes and metal shell. Something is oozing from the wounds, like a mixture of oil and clear fluid. Like _blood._ Jerry stands, transfixed.

 

Robot isn’t supposed to be _scared._ He’s not supposed to _die._ He’s just a machine.

 

_Right?_

 

Outwardly, nothing about Jerry changes, but inside he’s confused, horrified, and _irate._ The other cop—the one who spoke to them prior—is still aiming his gun at the downed Robot, keeping him and Dan from moving. He shouts something at them, something Jerry doesn’t really care to listen to. Then, without hesitation, Jerry picks up his discarded gun and, as the cop misses a shot, hurls the gun at the cop, striking him in the jaw. This gives Jerry an opening.

 

As the cop stumbles, Jerry spins on his heel and kicks into the asphalt, lunging towards Dan and Robot. He scoops the wounded bot into his arms and pulls Dan to his feet in one swift motion—and then they _run._

 

Jerry leads them back to the vehicle in silence, passing through a hedge. Dan is uncharacteristically quiet as they move, not even bothering to taunt the cops. Jerry nearly tosses Robot into the backseat of the car and is barely in the seat himself before Fingle stomps on the gas and begins to race away the cops behind them, leaving skid marks in their wake.

 

**_“Jerry?”_** Fingle yells, sounding angry and concerned, _“Why did you—“_ But before he can complete his thought, he finally takes a look at rear-view mirror at the same time as Ken turns around from the passenger seat.

 

Jerry has his hands pressed on Robot’s wounds, like he would with a normal person. But would that even _help?_ Robot isn’t a normal _person._

 

However, Jerry is mortified to realize that Robot is taking shallow breaths and _whimpering_ like a ‘normal person.’ It’s truly haunting. Jerry is at a loss of words, and it seems like everyone else is, too.

 

_“Fi-n-gle—“_ Robot manages to whisper, but his voice crackles and strains.

 

“Robot, I…” Fingle almost forgets that he’s driving a getaway vehicle and takes a sharp turn away from oncoming traffic.

 

“Fingle, focus on driving!” Ken finally says. Jerry looks at him—the man has determination in his eyes. “Dan, move, let me sit there. Try to keep the cops off us. Don’t let ‘em get close.”

 

“O-okay.” Dan replies has Ken hands him his gun. They switch spots, so now Dan is up front while Ken lets Robot rest his head on his lap.

 

Jerry watches Ken, perplexed. Was this a new side to him? Or, perhaps, he had always been this way, but Jerry never had a chance to observe. Although, Jerry had to admit, he had never been very good with people, so he just let the thought go for now.

 

His eyes move down once again, but it’s hard to look at Robot this way. He focuses on trying to asses the damage.

 

Three gunshot wounds. Two to upper chest, both right and left sides, then one just below where a human heart would be. On a human, those were very often fatal—what would it do to Robot? Jerry guessed that only Fingle really knew.

 

He soon realized that Robot was watching him—eyes staring as Jerry attempted to use his clumsy, armored hands to keep the wounds shut. Jerry met his eyes for a brief moment, but he couldn’t hold the gaze. He sensed raw and real _fear_ in those eyes—fear that Robot was unable to express in words, and fear that Jerry thought Robot wasn’t capable of having in the first place.

 

“Hey Robot,” Ken says, breaking the odd silence that had fallen on them even during an intense chase, “Ever since you got that cool new bike, I’ve been jealous as hell. It’s got fuckin’ _spikes_ on it. How cool is that?” Robot’s gaze lifted to meet Ken’s, and he immediately seemed to relax a little. “You’ve gotta let me ride it once we get back.”

 

“Can’t it do a cool jump thingy?” Dan says, sounding a lot less freaked out than before.

 

“Yeah. I saw Robot do this sick jump with it before. Actually, it wasn’t just _one_ jump. I think _every_ jump is cool on that thing.”

 

“I like the tail thing. It cool. It very cool.”

 

“I think Robot keeps it on there for style. Isn’t that right?”

 

Robot slowly nods, eyes staying fixed on Ken, letting his hands come to a rest rather than fighting with Jerry’s hands and grabbing at his wounds.

 

“Guys, hang on to something,” Fingle cuts in, his voice dead serious and determined. Jerry moves to hold Robot, wrapping an arm around him, pulling him into a one-armed bear hug, using his other arm to brace against the movements of the vehicle.

 

The floor suddenly falls from under them and they can feel nothing but air below the tires for a moment that lasts too long. Then, the truck hits the ground _hard_ , nearly spinning out of control, but Fingle is the baby driver for a reason.

 

Jerry, having gotten so used to the police sirens behind them, finally notices the pure silence without them. Just the road, the engine, and the wind, now.

 

In his arms, Jerry hears a quiet _‘ah-ah-ah,’_ like short, hiccuping breaths. He lets Robot fall back onto Ken’s lap again and notices that his face is twisted in pain, arms tucked up against his chest. The jump must’ve _hurt._

 

“I’m sorry Robot…” Jerry says quietly, feeling genuinely guilty. His armor definitely wasn’t the softest thing to land on. He averts his gaze for a moment, peering out the window, when he feels a hand placed on his. He looks back and sees Robot’s hand patting his own, gazing at him with a pained smile.

 

_It’s okay._

 

Jerry’s heart melts for a fleeting moment. Robot was _alive_ , and Jerry wanted to keep him that way.

 

So, of course, that meant he needed to slaughter some pigs. One in particular needed to go first.

 

But it’d have to wait until they got to a safe place.

 

“We’re going to the cabin,” Fingle says, still all seriousness, but then his voice gets uncharacteristically soft, “When we get there I’ll fix you up, Robot. Don’t you worry.” Robot nods, getting a confident smile from Ken and Dan. He closes his eyes and relaxes further, with Jerry and Ken carefully watching him.

 

_Yeah._

 

_Pigs need to die now._


	2. Talk to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a lot of talking in this chap but im at a party and i have a total of 2 brain cells. HOWEVER i love the Bitches so here u go. more action next chapter ;)

The forest was quiet and calm. Soft summer air ruffles leaves and wafts the ocean’s scent through the trees, dropping particles of sand to settle on dirt roads.

 

Though Jerry was anything  _ but  _ calm.

 

Leaned against the old wood of the cabin’s exterior, the armored man has his arms folded over his chest. In front of him, Ken is sat on the deck, legs dangling over the side as he sits in silence. Even further out, Dan is idly kicking the dirt of the hill, hands tucked into his pockets and eyes downcast. 

 

The silence was deafening.

 

Jerry clicks his tongue and pushes off the cabin, moving to take a seat beside Ken, who seems to be deep in a text-conversation with someone. Jerry can’t be bothered to try and guess who he’s texting, though.

 

Ken glances sideways at him as he approaches.

 

“How long has it been?” Jerry asks, “I didn’t check the time when I went out to patrol.”

 

“An hour, maybe,” Ken replies, “Maybe two. Somethin’ like that.”

 

“Did he kick you guys out, or did you leave on your own?”

 

“Dan was getting real restless. It’s not good to keep him cooped up in there—or anywhere for that matter.”

 

“Always wanting action.”

 

“We got  _ too much  _ action today.”

 

Jerry pauses—Ken was right. He turns his head to glance inside through the window behind them, and spots Fingle wiping his brow, a look of concentration on his face. It was the same kind of expression he got when driving.

 

“I’ve never seen anything like that,” Ken says.

 

“Like what?”

 

“Robot. I didn’t know he could, like,  _ feel _ shit like that, you know?” Jerry swallows a lump in his throat. He was still a bit shaken from it—but he couldn’t explain why it bothered him so much. “I mean, Robot is a great  friend and really chill, so I never really thought about him much that way—that he’s different.”

 

When all Ken gets for a response is silence, he lifts his arm and runs a hand through his hair, sighing. Jerry doesn’t really know what to say, though. What’s he  _ supposed _ to say?

 

“I’m just glad you got ‘em both out of there in one piece, Jer.”

 

“...Me too.” Another glance through the cabin window made Jerry’s heart sink a little more. Then, a question began to nag at the forefront of his thoughts. It begins to burn. “Dan?”

 

“Yeah?” The bearded man looks up, his gaze distant.

 

“Why did the cop shoot Robot?”

 

“...I don’t—“

 

“Did you  _ provoke  _ him?” Jerry’s tone intensifies.

 

“Jerry,” Ken cuts in, “You  _ know _ Dan rarely carries a gun. He wasn’t carrying one today.”

 

“Yeah, but—“

 

“Cops aren’t supposed to shoot at unarmed targets. The cop went outta line.” 

 

An awkward silence falls. Jerry, now realizing that being accusatory wasn’t going to help anything, turns and begins to walk down the mountain path, avoiding the continuation of this conversation. Dan and Ken watch him go, but only Ken follows after him. 

 

—

 

Jerry’s head was a spiraling mess. Guilt and anger were a bad mix for an overactive imagination.

 

A few minutes down the path, he comes across a small grove of trees. He takes a seat in the shade and rests his head in his hands. Only a moment passes before he hears someone take a seat next to him. He doesn’t bother to look up, though, preferring to keep his head down.

 

“I’ve never heard Fingle talk like that to Robot before,” Ken remarks. “He’s usually so rude to Robot. It was kinda refreshing to hear. I guess he really does care.” Jerry stays quiet, a bit confused. Why was Ken bringing this up? I mean, he wasn’t  _ wrong… _ “It really reminds me how important y’all are to me. Like a  _ family.” _

 

Now  _ that _ was something that Jerry wasn’t expecting. He lifts his head up and stares at Ken. It was such a moving statement from such an unassuming guy. 

 

“Even if Robot isn’t totally like us, he’s still one of us.” Ken continues, his gaze cast up towards the clouds. Every word helps to focus Jerry’s thoughts towards an outlet for his frustration. Something to quell his anger, to get justice for what happened…

 

He wanted  _ revenge. _

 

Jerry wasn’t totally sure why he landed on that specific conclusion, but  _ damn _ did it sound cathartic.

 

“Yeah,” Jerry says, almost casually, “I agree.”

 

Ken turns his gaze to Jerry and smiles with a hint of mischeviousness. It makes Jerry’s heart skip a beat.

 

“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” Ken asks.

 

“I, uh… maybe?” Jerry says tentatively.  _ Why am I nervous? _

 

“We gotta find that cop. There’s no way we’re gonna let him get away with shooting Robot.” _ Right. _

 

“Yeah, agreed.” 

 

“C’mon, lets go back to the cabin. I just got a text from Fingle.” Ken gets to his feet and holds out his hand to help Jerry up. He hesitates for half a second, but Jerry accepts.

 

—

 

The sun is settling below the treetops when they return to the cabin. 

 

As they take a step inside, the air conditioning is a welcome reprieve from the summer heat. However, Fingle looks like he’s just ran a mile.

 

“I need to go run errands,” Fingle says, taking a towel to his face and setting down a handful of miscellaneous tools. “Lay low ‘till I get back, or else I’m gonna smack you all.” With that, he leaves the cabin. 

 

“Wow,” Ken says, “I just got whiplash from that.”

 

“No kidding…” Jerry mutters.

 

They take a few steps into the cabin and notice Dan Dan sitting next to the bed that Robot is laying in, talking about something on his phone. He keeps pointing to various pictures in his camera roll and laughing out loud as Robot nods along, a polite smile on his face. Jerry watches Robot closely. He looks… almost sickly? Though it’s barely noticeable. He’s sitting upright, but he isn’t talking like he normally does.

 

“...—and you see this one, oh, it’s  _ amazing  _ what I did to get this! I went underwater and took the picture  _ just before _ my phone died! Oh, and here you can see my fish wife!”

 

Dan and Robot look up as Ken and Jerry walk over. Robot waves at them, and Jerry instinctively waves back.

 

“Robot can’t talk much,” Dan informs them, “Fingle said something about his chest, I think…”

 

“That’s fine,” Ken says, smiling, “At least he’s already awake!” Somehow, Ken made it seem so simple, but Jerry was having a hard time forming any responses that were appropriate. Though, as he’s thinking to himself, he notices a small look of relief on Robot’s face. It was so subtle, Jerry didn’t know how he picked up on it.

 

“Mind if we sit with you guys?” Jerry asks.

 

“No—sit so I can show you these pictures too!” Dan says, ushering Ken and Jerry over closer.

 

They spent a long while talking and keeping each other company. It was a much needed moment for them to bond a little.

 

It was nice.

 

_ ‘Like a family.’ _


End file.
